Brick House
by AlienZombies
Summary: The adventures of Israel Shepard, or: How To Get Your Entire Crew Killed in One Fell Swoop.


As I play Mass Effect, it makes me somewhat sad that you can't have a slightly more... colorful Shepard. You can get kind of quirky when you're evil, which I appreciate, but sometimes I just kind of wish I could say some things that can't be said. Anyway, as I played I scribbled down a bunch of little ideas that came into my head... and somehow they all kind of fitted together into this piece.

It's meant for fun. Yeah, it's pointless. Enjoy. And please, tell me what you think.

**Brick House**

The ship was entering into a slingshot mechanism between three adjacent suns. The maneuver was tricky and required impeccable precision – which was why Joker was glued to his chair, eyes glassed with stims and coffee, ready to guide the ship. This was something he would not even allow EDI to do, despite her attempts at reasoning with him about her superior targeting systems and reaction times. "Some things," he told Shepard, "need a human touch."

It wasn't a deadly path by any means. A few hundred thousand lightyears to the left and they could have circumvented the entire issue, but it would cost them greatly in fuel reserves and time. Slingshotting would buy them some much-needed momentum as well as cut the travel distance in half. However, the maneuver brought them close enough to the sun Berkura that the average core temperate of the ship climbed another twenty degrees, even with the automatic cooling systems functioning at optimal capacity. It was hot and miserable, and most everyone was at their wit's end.

They were on a diplomatic mission to the Migrant Fleet. Since the destruction of the Collectors, Shepard was keeping busy with intergalactic relations, using her muscle to stop wars from breaking out and all of that good nonsense.

EDI had taken it upon herself to play some soul music over the PA system. Shepard understood completely why Joker was so in love with shutting her the hell up.

"EDI?" she chirped.

"Whatchoo want?" The little glowing sphere – the equivalent, Shepard supposed, to EDI's face – appeared at one of the nearby terminals.

"Could you kindly shut that noise off?"

"Girl, this ain't noise. This is the best damn music you ever listened to."

"It is. I can't handle the intensity right now. My poor human brain can't handle the sheer amount of awesome pounding into it at 500 decibels."

"Mmm hmm. I hear you, girl. Aiight, I'll shut her down, fool. That all you want?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Crackers only bothering me when they need something…" EDI grumbled to herself, and then her likeness went away. The soul music stopped.

"Hallelujah to the Lord," Shepard breathed. Her headache instantly subsided.

--

"Approaching the Migrant Fleet, Commander," Joker informed Shepard as he punched in some anti-drift maneuvers. "Navigating is damn difficult with two suns."

Shepard hummed aimlessly behind him, swirling her milkshake to distribute the Oreo chunks more evenly. "_Double you pleasure, double your fun_," she sung quietly to herself. "_Double-mint double-mint sun_…"

Jacob, eating a sandwich at his consol, stopped to look at her.

"What?" she snapped. He turned on a simpering grin.

"Nothing, Commander. Admiring your hair."

Placated, she took a sip from her milkshake. "Why does no one burst into song and dance anymore? This place is as lively as Elcor Hamlet."

"We have permission to dock," Joker interjected, wanting to stop her rant before it really gained momentum.

"Good news. Sit her down."

"Will do."

She took a deep gulp and then let out a high-pitched yelp of agony. "Brain freeze! Brain freeze! Hurts more than a fucking turian sex stinger to the abdomen! _Fuck_!"

"That's why you take precautions, Commander," Jacob piped up. His sense of self-preservation had always been astonishingly low.

"How about I fill your mouth with hot sauce and sew your lips shut?" she growled at him.

The docking process after that was silent.

--

Shepard leaned over Joker's shoulder and roughly grabbed at the PA speaker. "Good morning, sports fans!" she trumpeted.

There was a collective groan.

"We have now docked at the exotic location of the quarian Migrant Fleet! Who the fuck wants to come with me and shoot things?"

Her radio crackled and Jack spoke up. "I ain't got anything better to do."

"Good deal!" Shepard replied. "Who else?"

Silence.

"What the hell? All right." She covered her eyes and stabbed at a random intercom button. Starboard Cargo's insignia lit up, and she knew just who was residing there. "Zaeed! Yo, dawg! It's your lucky day! You have been chosen for an all-expense-paid trip into hell! You're welcome."

"Fuck," Zaeed muttered.

"Why can't I ever get more than two people to come with me at once? Jesus Christ. Has anyone died yet? _No_. Except for Mordin, but we brought him back. And Garrus, almost. But you get the point. Suit up. Jack, grab your Kevlar tit-harness!"

They exited the ship five minutes later. Shepard had a fresh milkshake in her hands.

--

They were intercepted after a long boring meeting by a quarian Admiral. His suit glittered quite attractively. "Commander Shepard vas Normandy," he greeted formally, and she lazily saluted him.

"Something you need, Senior Bucket?"

"Yes, actually. We're having a problem with mercenaries and pirates kidnapping quarians on their way to Pilgrimage. We lack the resources to put a stop to it, and their ships dog us across the galaxy. Is there anything you can do to help us?"

She started to laugh when she realized he was serious. "So your problem is that you have a pack of creepy pedophiles stalking your kids home from school?"

Uncertain, the Admiral shrugged his shoulders. "In so many words," he mumbled. "Listen, I was just wondering if I could request your assistance."

She sighed and stomped her feet. Nothing was ever easy, ever _ever_. "How about we all just have a disco competition instead? And the winner gets to rule the universe."

"Wouldn't work," the Admiral replied dismissively. "Salarians are too flexible."

"Well that's a damn shame," Shepard said solemnly. "Oh well, then, I guess I can cure your mercenary problem."

"Hey thanks and all of that. Goodbye now."

Shepard didn't like this Admiral guy. She wanted to stab his suit with a wiener skewer and then sneeze on him. _That_ would throw him through a fucking loop.

She didn't, though. It wasn't worth the effort and anyway it would piss Tali off.

--

As they walked back to the ship, Shepard attempted to strike up a conversation with her squadmates. "Hey, Jacqueline."

"If you call me that again, I swear to God I will destroy you," Jack hissed.

"I like it. It sounds much prettier. Much less '_that questionable homosexual from down the street who may or may not be fondling Little Jimmy_' vibe, you read? But anyway, I was going to ask you about the whole… mercenary situation. If we track them back to the Migrant Fleet, we can't blow it up, can we?"

Jack stared at her blankly.

"Fine," Shepard muttered. "Never mind."

In a way, she was glad to have something to shoot. She had demanded Jack wear her formal "making-nice-with-diplomats" tattoos for nothing. Nowadays Shepard's face had some sort of laxative effect on people's brains and they just spewed whatever they needed all over the floor for her to sort out. Being a war hero is _not_ all it's cracked up to be.

They all boarded the Normandy. Shepard sang a little ditty as the scrubbers decontaminated them. After a short period on the ship, they would approach the kidnapping fleet, and it would be wartime again.

--

"Hey, Garrus," she twittered as she came through the door. She was playing with a video game on her omni-tool. "What's up?"

He turned to look at her, torn between affection and irritation. "Do you need me for something?"

"I just wanted to talk," Shepard replied, glancing up from her game with a faint smirk.

Well, shit. He didn't have time for her molestation. Not today. He searched fruitlessly for an escape route and quickly came up with an excuse. "Can it wait for a bit?" he squeaked. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm in the middle of some cali –"

"How about a big cup of shut the fuck up?" she blurted. "You and your calibrations!"

"What the fuck?"

"No, _you_ what the fuck!" She lunged at him as if she planned to tear his headplate off, and then abruptly turned tail and booked it out of there as fast as her stubby human legs could carry her.

"Okay," Garrus mumbled to himself, completely lost.

He vowed to himself to come up with some topics of conversation next time, to avoid similar reactions.

--

As the small cluster of mercenary ships came into view on the radar screens, Shepard reached for the intercom. "On this episode of 'Blowing Shit the Fuck Up' we welcome two new cast members to the show!" she blared into it. The speakers whined with feedback. "The audience has polled a popular vote! Someone give me a holla, we're on our way to a mission!"

Silence.

"Oh, come on," Shepard complained. "Seriously?"

"I will do it, Commander," Tali spoke up over the intercom. "This is a matter of my people."

"Good, Tali, I'm glad. Seriously. Just be aware that it's flu season. And since we're bringing you… how about we pick an audience member to participate in this week's show…" She pointed at random and found the intercom button she wanted. "Garrus Vakarian, _come on down_ and see what you've won!"

"Yippee," Garrus intoned. "Here I was about to do something useful like watching grass grow."

"Did you know you remind me of a preying mantis?"

His voice came back exasperated and slow. "I'll be on the bridge in five, Commander."

"Make sure to change out of your suit. What the hell are you still wearing that damaged armor for? Do you _like_ having a gaping hole straight to your spinal cord? Jesus Christ."

Tali appeared on the deck with her combat droid by her side.

"Got your suicide bomb?" Shepard asked her. She grabbed a small tube of prescription medication from her pack and downed two yellow pills.

"Got my what?"

"Because of your… you know with the… Never mind. Tally-ho!"

"What did you call me?"

EDI's voice came in from somewhere above. "Oh, no you didn't, girlfriend!"

"It's an old earth saying," Shepard explained, but Tali didn't seem convinced.

--

She leveled her gun and blew his head clean off his shoulders. "Yay!" she exclaimed as he went down. Blood spurted from his severed jugular vein in wide crimson arcs. "Blood fountain!"

"I feel sick," Tali croaked. She laid a hand over her stomach. "I can't get sick in my suit!"

"He was a bad person," Shepard informed her squadmates solemnly.

"So are you," Garrus said blandly.

"Yeah, I know. I thought about shooting myself on principle, but that would require a clone." She smiled beatifically and re-holstered her gun.

"I… Wha – B…" Tali stuttered and then shut down. There was no method to Shepard's madness.

"We've got to get moving," Shepard insisted. "If we don't kill their boss, they keep repopulating like ants. Or… like rachni. Or like humans."

"I noticed that," Garrus commented. "You humans breed like effing bacteria."

"I know right? Shit." Grinning, Shepard started off down the hallway.

--

The mercenary leader was a fat man by the name of Leonardo Simmons. He was laying on his desk reading a book of poetry when Shepard led her crew into his office. When he heard the door open, he looked at them and smiled.

"Well, that took you long enough," he chirped. "I almost died of old age."

"Now you will die of this rare disease," Shepard said in her best gypsy voice. "It involves having a bullet in the back of your brain. Very contagious and also very deadly. Luckily, it's not super painful."

"You're a fucking laugh riot," Leonardo quipped.

"I know. I should have my own TV show. Ever heard of opium? Just kidding, I'm on Vaiper. Yellow pills. Good shit. Stops me from cutting my own guts out and making a pretty sculpture with them."

"Wow," he said, impressed. "Legit?"

"Straight legit."

"It's neat to hear cool shit like that." He smiled. "It's a damn shame I'll have to kill you."

That was when he threw the grenade.

By some miracle of reflex and drug addiction, Shepard punched the incoming projectile straight out of the air. It flipped backwards over their heads and ricocheted down the hallway, where it exploded harmlessly in the air circulation systems.

"Warning," the ship's virtual intelligence reported. "We're all going to suffocate. Warning."

Leonardo shrieked like a pig and ducked behind his desk. When he reappeared, he had a pistol; unfortunately for him, Shepard and her team had crouched behind some office chairs. And Shepard had a sniper rifle.

Shepard let out a slow breath and took the shot. It landed and burst in a hail of bloody fireworks. The mercenary's body crumpled, shredded, on the catwalk. And then it was over.

"Kwahhh!" she screamed triumphantly, cutting the air with the blade of her hand. She leapt to her feet and punched aimlessly with victorious glee. "Your Kung-Fu be strong, but you are no match for my majiks! Fwah!"

Garrus couldn't help but laugh, surveying the destruction all around them. "You handled that very well, Commander," he praised.

"Hurr durr," she answered contemptuously, in the most insulting imitation of someone with mental deficiencies that Garrus had ever seen. "What, you think I do this for fun? Get up off your ass, Pancho – we've got shit 'ta shoot. Don't get all sniffy at me. I can see it in your face. What, have you got sand up your butt?"

"Why the hell would I… what?"

"Have you never had sand up your butt, Garrus?"

"No." He was deeply baffled now.

"Ah, my boy, then you have not lived." She heaved a mournful sigh and shook her head as if deeply disappointed. "One day, I will provide you the experience."

Deciding not to argue with her, he replied uncertainly, "Thank you, Commander."

"My fucking pleasure. Now let's move on."

When Shepard had her back turned, Tali pulled a face at Garrus behind her helmet.

--

The walk back to the shuttle was long and awkward. Shepard had taken a fresh dosage of yellow pills and her eyes were like twin black voids. She kept staring at Garrus and squinting, and then she would laugh and look away. Tali shrugged at him as if to say, "Who the fuck knows anymore?" and he couldn't agree more.

Then suddenly, Shepard turned and pinned him with a hard, scrutinizing gaze. "Did you know you kind of look like a kitty?"

"What?"

"You've got the kitty mouth and kind of whiskers going back…"

He was about fed up with Shepard and her suspicious yellow pills. "Why are we even doing this, anyway?"

"I don't know, Garrus. Why are you gay?"

"I'm not gay."

"That's what the enemy wants you to think!"

"Maybe we should just move on."

"I'm in charge," she muttered, but they moved on.

By the time they got back to the shuttle dock, the oxygen levels had depleted so much that Garrus had started giggling at the little specks of light zooming across his vision. Needless to say, it was good to be back on the Normandy, where he could breathe.

Shepard offered to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Dr. Chakwas assured her that such measures were not necessary, and Garrus was so grateful he wouldn't have minded stabbing her innards with his stinger, not one bit.

--

The Migrant Fleet was very grateful that Shepard had eliminated the threat. They rewarded her with an air filter and some antibiotics, as well as a medal.

"It's a good day to be alive," Shepard mused. She grinned from ear to ear, lofting the medal high so that the crowd of quarians could see it. "To be or not to be, am I right?"

"Alas, poor Yorick!" they chanted back.

"One day, if I have children, this is something I can throw at them when they fail a calculus test," Shepard said. "It's heavy enough to cause some legitimate damage and make them reconsider being stupid."

"I hate my life," Jacob whined. "Christfuck on a platter." He scuffed his shoe.

Shepard punched him lightly on the arm. Her eyes were brilliant with glee. "Onward! Another adventure begins! Miranda! Grab my handy dandy notebook! I have a hunger for writing poetry!"

Miranda rolled her eyes and muttered, "At least she isn't a Vogon."

Because, as everyone was unhappily aware, Shepard loved to read her poetry through the PA system immediately before giving very bad news.

They returned to the ship in morose silence, except for Shepard, who could not get anyone to join in a round of "I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts" or "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" or even "Row Row Row Your Boat" so now she was singing "My lovely lady lumps, my humps my humps my humps!" at the top of her lungs.

Everywhere, baby quarians cried in their bubbles.

--

Garrus was in the middle of playing Tetris when Shepard approached him in his room.

"Izzy," he said irritably. "Listen, I need to drop this blue L. I'm at full speed now."

"That's what she said," Shepard exclaimed. "Oh damn! Oh damn, boy, what a burn! Hide your face in shame, hide it now."

She made him lose the game. Garrus whimpered at his failure.

"Listen," she told him, batting the game out of his hands. "I came to ask you if you wanted to have a non-sequitur in Kelly Chambers's chambers."

"You can do that?" he asked dumbly.

"I'm Commander Fucking Shepard. The Force is strong with this one."

"Oh, right." He ran a series of plans to escape this hell through his head, and could only come up with one: drug and distract. "How about you take some more of your yellow pills and I'll meet you up there?"

"Promise?"

"Super promise."

"Pinky swear. Oh snap! You don't have a pinky!" She laughed and then turned to go. She gave sultry winks to everyone she passed in the corridors. She was actually a charming young lady – blond, huge blue eyes, acceptably-sized tits – but the mania sometimes curbed the enthusiasm of otherwise curious young men.

When she came upon the yeoman's bedroom (she got a special one, because she was a redhead and they didn't want the disease to spread), she entered the code with her eyes closed.

After all, Kelly was easy. Shepard had done this a dozen times before.

The door snapped open and it took several long moments for Shepard to realize what she was seeing.

"Kelly!" she yelped. "Is that a varren?"

Kelly screamed back, "_The scale itch is not my fault_!"

Shepard closed the door and popped three yellow pills with one trembling hand.

--

"Approaching Illium, Commander," Joker relayed. He was listening to classic rock in his headphones. Shepard had never had much of a taste for Smashing Pumpkins, and the sound of his loud music mixed with the underlying tones of hip-hop EDI had taken to playing when she thought no one was paying attention.

Shepard clapped her hands over Joker's eyes. "GUESS WHO!"

"Ahh!" he shrieked. "Holy shit!"

He jerked hard ride and drove them straight into an asteroid.

Everything exploded, and everybody died.

-- **the end**


End file.
